


The Qun Demands Submission

by dreadwolftakeme



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Dom/sub, Light Bondage, Multi, Spitroasting, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-11
Updated: 2016-02-11
Packaged: 2018-05-19 15:17:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5971660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreadwolftakeme/pseuds/dreadwolftakeme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hawke has a thing for the big, burly Arishok. But when he offers himself up, he gets more than he bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Qun Demands Submission

**Author's Note:**

> Karasten = a Qunari title; like a corporal, according to the Dragon Age Wiki. I figured the Arishok would have some other senior officer with him.

 

Hawke had always had a thing for the Qunari, ever since the moment he’d first laid eyes on one. He wasn’t certain but he felt fairly sure it was their size. And the Arishok? Maker’s balls, he was huge, even by their standards. It sent a little shiver down Hawke’s spine to think about being pinned down by a man like that.

Never one to play things cautiously, Hawke hadn’t wasted the opportunity to drop a few hints the last time he’d worked for the Qunari leader. He’d flirted subtly and, whilst he couldn’t be sure, he had a feeling that his quiet advances had been well received.

That was the only reason he found himself outside the gates to the Qunari compound. In the middle of the night. _Alone_. It was a risky move – even he was well aware of that. If he’d somehow read the situation wrong, he was liable to earn himself a beating. And that was if he was lucky.

The usual guards were standing outside as he approached, as tall and silent as oak trees. Hawke felt a little jolt of arousal at the way they loomed over him menacingly.

“I am here to speak with your Arishok,” he declared, more confidently than he felt. “Tell him Garrett Hawke requires his audience.”

The two guards exchanged looks and, for a moment, Hawke thought they were going to ignore him completely. However, one of them murmured something to the other in Qunlat and he slipped off inside the gate. Hawke was left waiting in awkward silence, the guard acting as though he simply weren’t there. Eventually, the second Qunari returned and he opened the gate by way of admission.

“Thank you,” Garrett muttered and he headed inside, feeling his stomach flip with excitement.

It was quieter at night, though there were still a few Qunari milling around. The Arishok was waiting, seated on his makeshift throne, his expression unreadable.

“Shanedan, Hawke,” he rumbled, as the human approached. “I was not aware we had further business.”

The giant’s stare was as hard as steel and just as cold. Suddenly, Hawke didn’t feel so confident in his deductions. However, to demand a meeting and then turn back now was every bit as foolish as what he meant to do. There seemed no point in deliberating. 

“I… am not here on business, Arishok,” Hawke said, boldly. “Quite the opposite actually. I came here to discuss more pleasurable pursuits.”

The Arishok’s brows raised almost imperceptibly. He glanced to his right, to another Qunari man who so often stood at the leader’s side. This man openly smirked, nodding just once, and the Arishok turned back to Garrett.

“Na’thek. Join us inside, Hawke. We will share maaras-lok and you may elaborate on these pursuits of which you speak.”

Hawke’s jaw almost hit the ground as the Arishok rose and led the way into their quarters. He dithered for about half a second before scurrying after him, his heart in his throat.

The Qunari lodgings were small and relatively plain, though they were meticulously well kept. The Arishok led Hawke past what seemed to be a makeshift barracks and to a private room beyond. These were obviously the leader’s own chambers. Like the others, they were sparsely furnished though incredibly clean. The bed was huge but simply dressed and a fire burned brightly in the grate. The whole room smelled of the heady, herbal scent of their body paint, an aroma that never failed to turn Hawke on.

The human was directed to a table off to one side, which was hemmed in by two long, low benches.

“Sit,” the Arishok instructed him. Garrett didn’t hesitate to obey. He perched on one of the benches whilst the leader seated himself in a huge, throne-like chair. The Qunari he’d acknowledged outside had followed them in and he was busying himself pouring drinks from a heavy, clay carafe. “I am surprised but not displeased at your interest, Hawke,” the Arishok went on. “You are fortunate. Karasten and I have been discussing our _own_ curiosity as of late. We will indulge you, human, if you so desire.”

Hawke very nearly dropped the shallow, clay tumbler of liquor he’d just been handed. Did he mean… both of them? His eyes raked over the one called Karasten. He wasn’t quite as tall as the Arishok but, like most of the warriors of his race, he was incredibly well built. Strong. Powerful.  His stomach performed a little flip of excitement and he nodded vigorously.

“Yes,” he breathed. “Absolutely.”

“This will not be one of your tender human joinings,” the leader warned, with a slight sneer.

“I don’t care,” Garrett replied at once. “I don’t want tender. Or human.”

The Arishok snorted, apparently amused. “You are brave,” he commented. “Or foolish.” Nevertheless he sat back in his chair, sipping at his drink. Hawke took a little nip to help calm his nerves before setting it down on the table.

“Stand,” Karasten instructed, approaching him with a length of rope coiled in one hand. “Strip.”

Hawke did as he was told, a thrill of desire running through him. Both Qunari were watching him with undisguised interest and the human found himself growing hard under the scrutiny. He stripped off his tunic and undershirt, his boots and, finally, his breeches. Karasten smirked, greedily eyeing his hardening cock.

“Your form is pleasing,” he rumbled, with obvious approval. “My superior and I had not expected your kind to be so robust.”

“I lead a busy life,” shrugged Hawke, modestly. His gaze followed the smaller Qunari as he circled him, taking in every inch of his human body. When he’d come back around, he nodded and he began to unravel the rope in his hands.

“The enforcers of the Qun demand your submission,” he growled. “Do you accept, human?”

His submission? Hawke glanced at the rope and he realised with mounting desire that they meant to bind him.

“Oh fuck yes,” he groaned, and he held out his hands. “I submit. Absolutely.”

Karasten’s smirk widened.

“Behind you,” he commanded. “The Arishok will not accept the touch of a bas.”

“Oh, right.” Garrett was quick to amend his mistake, crossing his arms behind his back. Karasten moved slowly, looming in his shadow as he bound Hawke’s wrists. The knots were tight – hard to escape from – but not uncomfortable and the rope itself was surprisingly soft. When he’d finished restraining him, Karasten’s hands glided down Hawke’s back, grasping roughly at the human’s ass. Hawke gasped.

“It is my duty to prepare you,” the Qunari told him, right in his ear. “If at any point you wish to stop, you will say “gaatlok”. Do you understand, human?”

“Gaatlok,” nodded Hawke. “Got it.”

His breathing quickened as Karasten pressed against his back, dragging his nails over Hawke’s flesh as his arms snaked around to the front. The Qunari leaned his chin on Garrett’s shoulder and his hot breath skittered over the human’s flesh. Andraste’s tits, every little sensation went straight to Hawke’s dick. It was little wonder he was hard already. Karasten made a sound of interest in Garrett’s ear and then his thick, grey fingers were wrapping around Hawke’s length.

“Ahh fuck,” the human groaned. “Yes.”

Karasten’s grip was firm, bordering on tight. Hawke couldn’t get enough and, when the Qunari began to jerk him off, he found himself rutting into that hot, calloused fist.

“That feels good,” Hawke panted. “Fuck…”

From his chair a few feet away, the Arishok gave a dark chuckle.

“You humans,” he murmured. “Even when rutting, you cannot keep your mouths shut.”

Hawke flushed slightly. However, the Arishok did not seem displeased. On the contrary, he was watching his lieutenant work with open interest in his eyes.

“The oil,” he commanded. “Use it. He will need the help.”

Karasten nodded, Hawke feeling the motion rather than seeing it, and one hand began to rummage in the pouch on his belt. The hand on his cock retreated momentarily. Hawke heard the sound of a bottle being uncorked and then those blissful fingers returned, slick with oil. Karasten took him in hand once more. Hawke whimpered.

“Spread your legs,” the Qunari demanded, gruffly. “Feet at hip’s width apart.”

The human obeyed, heat sparking in his belly. He’d never really been one for being bossed around in the bedroom - preferring to give orders himself – but this? This was beyond hot. Perhaps it was knowing that, if he refused, they could simply make him obey.

A sudden pressure between his asscheeks made him help with surprise. A thick, oiled finger pressed against his entrance and began to tease in slow, circular motions. Garrett let out a hiss of delight, torn between pushing back and bucking forward into Karasten’s hand.

“Do it,” he begged. “Please.”

“You do not give the orders here, bas,” Karasten growled. All the same he pressed the tip of his finger inside, pulling a long, low groan from the human. “He is tight, Arishok,” his tormenter hummed. “I suspect he will struggle.”

“No!” Hawke blurted immediately, panting as the Qunari began to thrust his finger in gently. “No. I can… take it. I swear. Don’t stop.”

He looked pleadingly to the leader. The Arishok tilted his head, giving Hawke an appraising look, before he nodded.

“He knows the watchword,” he shrugged. “Keep going. Work him thoroughly.”

“Meravas, Arishok,” replied Karasten and he let his finger sink all the way in. Hawke moaned as the Qunari brushed against his sweet spot. His back arched and he began to grind down onto the intrusion, rather than into the oiled fist around his cock. Karasten’s rhythm was merciless. He pushed into Hawke again and again, wrenching cry after cry from the human’s lips. Garrett felt sure if it wasn’t for the Qunari holding him up he would have fallen. His legs began to tremble. Pleasure was burning low in his belly, hot and consuming.

“Please,” he panted. “You have to slow down or I won’t last.”

“You are not meant to last, basra,” Karasten growled. “Now come.”

The lieutenant prodded hard up into Hawke’s ass. Garrett came with a wail, a noise he’d never before heard himself make. Hot spend splattered the floor. The Arishok hummed his approval, even as Hawke sagged, sweating, in Karasten’s arms.

“Good,” praised the Arishok. “Now, give him more.”

“More?” Hawke whimpered, his eyes growing wide. Maker, he was already softening, a sleepy sort of contentment settling over his limbs. The Qunari, however, were taking no prisoners and Garrett felt a second finger press in alongside the first. He hissed at the sting but Karasten was surprisingly patient, giving him time to adjust before pushing in further.

 The stretch was incredible. Hawke keened, his body still reeling from his recent orgasm. Every nerve was alight. His knees buckled but the Qunari held him up.

“Stand and submit,” he uttered, his voice sending tremors down Hawke’s spine. “Or do you prefer to be on your knees?”

Garrett could only moan in response and Karasten didn’t reprimand him.

Once he’d accustomed to the second finger, the Qunari began to add a third. Hawke almost sobbed in mixed pain and pleasure. The rhythmic pressure on his sweet spot was counterbalance to the burn. He hunched forward slightly, allowing for a deeper angle; the lieutenant allowed it. The oiled hand that had been working his cock began to tease his sac, rolling, squeezing, the touch just a fraction shy of rough. Soon enough, Hawke began to twitch and harden once more. His sounds became incoherent, his body a shaking mass of sheer sensation. He could barely see as Karasten pushed him towards another climax.  He could feel the Qunari’s hot hands upon his body, smell the heady, masculine scent of his vitaar and, Maker, if that smell hadn’t turned him on before, it would do now.

“He recovers quickly,” The Arishok praised. “Is he still tight, Karasten?”

“Tight enough,” smirked Karasten. “He will grip you nicely.”

Hawke whimpered at the thought of the Arishok balls deep in his ass. Karasten’s hand found his length again and it only took half a dozen firm strokes before he was coming once more. He bellowed until he was hoarse, his body going limp in the lieutenant’s arms. The fingers inside him retreated, leaving him clenching desperately around thin air.

“Reposition him,” The Arishok commanded. “On the floor.”

Garrett whined, his every nerve burning with sensation.  Karasten, however, paid him no heed. He pressed harshly between Hawke’s shoulder blades, forcing him down to his knees. The human stared at the woven mat beneath him as his senses gradually sharpened. It was rough and abrasive against his skin. Uncomfortable. Delicious.

“Look up, basra,” the Arishok commanded.

Hawke did as he’d been asked, drawing in great gulps of air. What he saw almost floored him completely. The Arishok was standing before him, wearing nothing save for his glittering, golden jewellery. His grey skin was painted all over with red, striking and utterly mesmerising. But most impressive of all was the erection that jutted proudly from between his muscled thighs. For the love of the Maker, it was thicker than Hawke’s wrist! The human didn’t know whether to throw out a prayer of thanks or run away screaming. His awe must have showed, for a slight smirk curled one corner of the leader’s mouth.

“You remember your watchword?” he asked, his rich baritone even deeper than usual.

Hawke nodded desperately. He bit his lip to withhold a groan as the Arishok palmed his own cock, stroking himself with arrogant ease.

“Tell me,” he demanded. “I would be certain.”

“I-it’s gaatlok,” Garrett panted. “But I’m not using it.”

Maker’s breath, the horned man actually laughed at that.

“We shall see,” he rumbled. “On your knees, human. Karasten – the oil.”

Heart skittering with excitement, Hawke arranged himself so that he was on his knees, his backside in the air and his face pressed against the woven mat. It was starting to get uncomfortable with his arms tied behind his back but he couldn’t care less – it all added to the thrill.

Something slippery and cool was trickled down the seam of his ass. Garrett gasped but it quickly became a whine as the Arishok massaged the lubricant into his well-stretched hole.

“This will hurt you, no doubt,” the leader observed. “At first. Then you will know true pleasure.”

Hawke was about to respond but the feel of the Arishok’s length pressing against him gave him pause. His breath stilled in his chest. He bit his lip, though it didn’t help in the slightest. Even three fingers and a veritable slick of oil hadn’t quite prepared him for this. He panted, screwing his eyes shut, air hissing through gritted teeth as the Qunari leader pushed slowly in. His hands clenched in their bindings, toes curling.

“Oh fuck!” he cried out. “Oh sweet Maker’s mercy!”

“Your Maker… cannot hear you now,” growled the Arishok, and Hawke was pleased to note the little hitch in his voice.

When he was finally as deep as he could go - which felt like all the way to Hawke but he couldn’t be certain – the Arishok seized the human by the hips, sharp nails biting into his flesh. He withdrew slightly and Hawke shivered, tears of mixed pain and pleasure springing to his eyes. The Qunari pushed roughly back in and Hawke shrieked.

It was like nothing he’d ever felt before. He simultaneously wanted it to stop whilst silently begging for it never to end. The Arishok fucked him relentlessly, his gravelly voice grunting with each snap of his hips. Soon the sting subsided, giving way to a pleasure that rendered him incoherent. Garrett could only shout and keen and cry as he was screwed into the mat, the sheer force of the Qunari’s thrusts jolting his body. His knees scraped against the scratchy mat beneath them but he didn’t care. It was just another hue in a rainbow of sensation.

Somehow, miraculously, he began to harden again, though he was only at half-mast when another orgasm left him reeling. His seed coated his belly this time, dripping down onto the mat below.

“Oh Maker!” he sobbed. “Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna die!”

The Arishok laughed breathlessly.

“Unbind him, Karasten,” he commanded. “You have earned your reward.”

Hawke made a pathetic sound of protest when the lieutenant moved. Rough hands grabbed his shoulders and he felt his bonds being sliced clean away. As boneless and spent as he felt, Garrett brought his hands down, pushing himself up on shaking limbs. Karasten was kneeling before him. He was still fully dressed though his breeches had been unlaced to reveal another huge Qunari dick. Hawke bit his lip.

“Your mouth, basra,” leered Karasten, taking himself in hand. “Open it.”

Through his pleasure fogged mind, Hawke managed to obey. Karasten shuffled forward on his knees and he claimed the human’s mouth none too gently. Garrett almost gagged at the sudden intrusion. However, sucking cock was nothing new to him and he relaxed the muscles of his throat quickly. He couldn’t quite take all of the lieutenant but he didn’t seem to mind. The giant growled low in his throat and began to fuck Hawke’s mouth with obvious enthusiasm.

Hawke’s body was wrecked, his senses in disarray but he did his best. He suckled weakly around Karasten’s girth, flicking his tongue as much as he could muster. He could feel the Arishok picking up his pace behind him, his sounds of pleasure almost bestial. The constant stimulation of his sweet spot was getting almost too much for the human to bear.

When the Arishok finally came, it was with a veritable roar. He reared up, pulling Hawke against him and gripping his hips hard enough to bruise. Karasten followed mere seconds later. He finished with a snarl, filling Hawke’s mouth with more cum than it could contain. Garrett swallowed what he could, the rest tricking out of the corners of his mouth and dripping down his chin. He could feel it seeping out of his backside too, thick and hot, running down the backs of his legs. He didn’t care. He was beyond spent and, when the Ariskok and his Karasten pulled away, he simply curled in on himself right there on the floor. His limbs ached. His ass felt like he’d been ravaged by an entire frigate full of sailors and his lips were sore. Still, it was an incredible feeling and Hawke was grinning to himself even as his eyes drooped of their own accord.

“What shall I do with him, Arishok?” he heard Karasten ask.

“Clean him,” the Qunari leader ordered. “Dress him and take him to the tavern – you know the one of which I speak. Leave him there and then return. He has allies who will shelter him for the night.”

There were footsteps by his head. Even through his half-closed lids, Garrett could sense the hulking mass that darkened his vision.

“Panehedan, Hawke,” a deep voice murmured in his ear. “For a human, you are remarkably worthy.”

**Author's Note:**

> Qunlat Glossary
> 
> shanedan - a greeting (lit. "Ill hear you").  
> na’thek - as you wish (uncertain).  
> maaras-lok - strong Qunari liquor.  
> gaatlok - explosive powder  
> bas - neutral term for non-Qunari.  
> basra - rude term for non-Qunari (used here playfully).  
> panehedan - goodbye. (lit. "Take refuge in safety").


End file.
